


Picking Flowers w/ Halt

by Moolikacow



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Flowers, Halt is a softy, I promise my writing nowadays is much better, I wrote this story so long ago, I'm sorry that it's bad, THIS IS LITERALLY SO BAD, That's it, Will is sassy, is anyone even in this fandom anymore???, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10048751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moolikacow/pseuds/Moolikacow
Summary: Halt picks flowers.That's it.That's the story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, but I figured, hey, now that I have an AO3 account, why not post it?
> 
> I used to love the Ranger's Apprentice books, (well really, I still do) but it's been so long, I don't even know if anyone is in this fandom anymore!
> 
> So here, randos, have some fluffy flower picking.

It was the wee hours of the morning, the dew still fresh on the grass and the world only just waking up, though Halt had been awake for at least a couple of hours by now. Now that he didn't have an apprentice to do all of the housework, the responsibility once again landed in the hands of Halt.

He had beaten the rugs, swept the floor, fetched the water… Finally the housework was done.

Halt sighed to himself as he sat down in his chair, a cup of coffee in his hands. He really should get someone else to do the housework. He wasn't getting any younger, you know.

It was then, as Halt sat sipping his coffee, that he noticed the vase of wilting flowers on the window sill of his kitchen. Halt studied these flowers for a few brief moments before pushing himself out of the chair with a grunt. He had just gotten comfortable, he thought to himself. Oh well, a Ranger's life isn't meant to be comfortable.

Halt made his way to the vase of flowers, picking it up and examining the state of the leaves and petals of each bloom. They drooped slightly, the colours tinted a darker shade than they originally were. He would need a new bouquet of brightly coloured flowers for this vase.

Halt carried the vase to the door of his cottage, stepping outside and emptying the contents – the stale water and old flowers – into the dirt. He put the vase back in its place on the window sill before donning his cloak and double scabbard and heading back outdoors.

Inhaling deeply, he stepped off of the veranda and headed toward the familiar forest surrounding his cottage. Abelard, his trusted and loved horse, whinnied at him as he passed, and Halt gently raised a hand to rub at the horse's nose.

"Hey there," he murmured quietly. "I'm going out to get some more flowers. You can stay here. I'm not going far, and I can't risk you trampling the flowers." Abelard's big eyes looked at him accusingly.

_I would tread as carefully as a butterfly around your flowers and you know it._ Abelard's gaze said to Halt. _But I know how you are about your flowers, so if you must go without me, I'll be fine here._

Halt scratched behind Abelard's ears. "I know." He answered his horse. "I'll be back soon."

_Don't get lost._

Halt nodded at Abelard's parting words, silently smiling to himself. His horse had a sense of humor.

He made his way into the woods, his feet making no sound on the leaf splayed forest floor. He kept his eyes and ears open for any sign of a threat, but all was still and silent. He carried himself through a portion of the forest that he was familiar with, gliding from one patch of shade to the next, staying out of sight, even though there was really no need to. It was relaxing for him, to just get a little practice in (not that he needed it) without the overlaying danger that usually came with the job.

After only a little while, he came to a cluster of plants, growing under a large tree. They grew in vines, hugging their way up the trunk of their treemate, bright coral coloured flowers blooming beautifully in bunches. Halt didn't notice the little smile that came onto his face upon laying sight on the flowers.

He kneeled down in the dirt, slowly drawing his saxe knife from its scabbard. His free hand gently caressed the pretty pinkish flowers, his fingers drawing along the petals. He lightly bunched together a group of the flowers, smoothly bringing the blade up to their stems. He slid the knife across the green throats until he had a handful of the gorgeous flowers. He inspected them once more, making sure that none of them were damaged, and that he had cut them the right length. Of course they were just as breathtaking as before, and he had cut them with the perfect amount of stem. He had done this hundreds of times before.

He stood up, carefully making his way around the flowers and headed further into the forest. Moving slowly and calmly, in no rush, he made his way to another patch of flowers. This time, they were white.

Pristine. Pure.

He kneeled down once more, gathering flowers together much like he did earlier, and cutting the stems, adding them to the bunch of flowers he already had in his hand. He made several more stops, gathering flowers of all different kinds and colours. Purple, blue, pink, white and orange. Together, they were a sight to behold. Halt made his way back to his cottage, carrying the flowers in careful hands, not wanting to crush or damage any of the beautiful blossoms.

Upon entering his cottage, Halt placed the bouquet in the vase that had housed his previous spray of brightly coloured flowers. He brought the vase outside and filled it with the water from his water barrel and then returned the vase to its place on the window sill. Halt looked at the vase and flowers, a soft, content look on his face.

"Halt, you big softy."

The voice was behind him, and it took everything in himself not to jump and whip around. He turned, slowly, face blank, to face his old apprentice.

"Excuse me?" was Halt's reply.

Will grinned, sitting in the chair that Halt had been sitting in only a few hours prior.

"You went out and picked those flowers, didn't you? Just like a little girl going to pick flowers for her mother." His grin widened as he saw Halt's eyebrow raise. "You probably sniffed them, too. How many times have you told me not to stop and smell the roses?"

Halt felt his eye twitch ever so slightly. "These are not roses."

"Ah, forgive me. Your daffodils, and daisies, and pansies, and what have you." Will made a dismissive gesture. "Still, though. You went out and picked them all by yourself. No reason. Not the most manly thing you've done, Halt."

Halt's lips thinned into a tight line as Will named off types of flowers. None of those were the kinds in his bouquet. These were wild, special flowers that only bloomed in this season. But he knew that telling Will that would do no good. "You want to talk about manly?" He asked. "What about that time you played a lullaby on your lute for Tug?"

"It's a Mandola." was Will's immediate response. "and that was one time! He asked me to." Will slouched down in his seat grumpily.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on all the social medias @ Moolikacow
> 
> tumblr, twitter, instagram... yeah that's actually it.


End file.
